Dead end
by Chinese Bakery
Summary: She was the prison doctor falling for the handsome and mysterious inmate. How cliché. Season 1, MichaelSara. Companion piece for 'Hot date'.


His evening was a nightmare. The tiny cell left him no escape from Sucre's incessant monologue about Maricruz's womanly charms, and he was way too annoyed to lend a friendly ear to his cellmate's ramblings. His appointment with Sara that day had been troubling in more ways than one. It seemed to him like she had made a show of her plans for the evening, and he didn't know what to make of it. Was it a way to put a definitive end to the little dance that had come to a halt after Nika's visit, or was she only getting back at him for not letting her know of his marital status?

Obviously, he couldn't explain to her why Nika was hardly a threat. The simple fact that he felt the urge to was a proof that this relationship was getting out of hand, fast. He had no time for this.

"I'm not used to enjoying it." Her simple admission had sent his mind reeling with impossible scenarios. She hadn't let him respond and even if she had, what could he have said? He couldn't let her expect anything from him. He had nothing to offer, nothing that would prove satisfying for a doctor who was used to a wealthy, comfortable life.

Still, Sara was out on a date. She was out on a date and furthermore, she was angry at him. And probably jealous. The thought failed to leave him as indifferent as he should have been.

It was going to be a long night.

---------------

Her evening was a nightmare. Sure, this Dr. Phillips was a handsome fellow, but his conversation was soporific. In less than an hour, he had mentioned his net worth at least four times and she was preparing herself to learn about his retirement plan anytime now.

This was exactly why she ended up dating so-called bad boys. Sure enough, they usually got her into trouble, but at least there was a spark, an excitement she knew she would never find with an arrogant dermatologist. Everything in her education predestined her to be coupled with a Doctor Philips and perhaps it was the very reason why she found his kind so… well, dull. She had known them all her life, those obnoxious, self-satisfied notables who seemed to be searching for a well-bred spouse to complete their collection of valuable possessions. Frankly, she failed to see their appeal.

As her date went on to relay in detail a particularly irksome anecdote about his latest patient, she let her thoughts drift away. She was affronted, although not completely surprised, when her wandering mind led her directly to the image of a certain tattooed inmate. She was certain –almost certain– that he had been bothered by the prospect of her evening out, a fact that pleased her much more than she had anticipated. She wondered what his wife would think of their current relationship and felt her stomach clench at the thought.

It was going to be a long evening.

---------------

"It depends on where I start." Those were her very words. He couldn't seem to stop wondering where exactly she would finish with her date for the evening. He had seen only a glimpse of her red dress but it was enough to keep his mind busy forming images, each one more daring that the previous. It was certainly not the first time that he thought about Sara _that way_, but his lustful pictures were now tainted with the knowledge that she was wearing a pretty, revealing red dress for someone else. Flirting, laughing with a man who would undoubtedly try his luck before the evening was over. Maybe she'd let him, what did he know about her anyway?

"Hey, Papi! What's wrong with you tonight?"

"Nothing", he mumbled and turned in his bunk to face the grey wall.

His mind was going back and forth from lust to anger and it was driving him crazy. He needed to put an end to this misery. The next day, he would be as cold and distant as she had been earlier. A safe distance between them; that was what he needed to stop this mess. Soon enough, he'd be out of here and she'd be nothing but a pleasant memory. A memory that might haunt him some nights, but nothing more than a memory.

---------------

"Cynthia?"

She snapped out of her trance when her companion waved a hand in front of her eyes. She had no idea of how long she had been out of it, retreated in her own thoughts that seemed to revolve solely around mysterious wives and conjugal visits.

"It's Sara." She glared at him over her glass of sparkling water. She couldn't hold it against him; she couldn't remember his first name either, although she was sure he had told her more than once. But she was getting weary of his endless chatter and couldn't wait for her desert to arrive to give her something to do, until she could finally make her goodbyes and retreat to the quiet of her apartment.

"Oh, of course. I'm sorry, Sara, Cynthia was the name of a patient that came to me earlier this week with the most bizarre allergy…"

Andrew –or was it Anthony?– clearly liked the sound of his own voice, and a second later he was back to his one-sided conversation. He seemed to have helped himself quite generously from the bottle of red wine he had ordered despite her polite refusal, and the beverage led him to babble even louder. She was getting a headache.

---------------

An inmate falling in love with the gorgeous, out-of-reach prison doctor – how ridiculous did that sound, anyway? It was a terrible cliché. Furthermore, he was an inmate with an escape plan, little time to waste and a brother to save. Boy meets girl, boy asks girl to run away to Panama with him and his brother? That sounded hardly plausible.

It was a deadlock. He needed to step back before she got hurt.

He was not the man for her.

---------------

After several hours of tossing and turning in bed, it was becoming harder to deny the horrifying truth. She was the prison doctor falling for the handsome and mysterious inmate. How cliché. She was falling for a mysterious, _married_ inmate and not one of the many Doctor Phillips she had met would ever cause a shadow of the flutter she felt every time he entered the infirmary.

It was a dead end. She had to stop it, the quicker the better.

She wouldn't be that woman.


End file.
